


i see stars and go weak

by yaboy6022



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Also a lot of language I don't know if this should be mature actually because of language, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, and the theme this week is: They Are Better Than The Sum Of Their Parts, jayroy makes me sad, post rh/a #13, so i gave them a happy ending, this is also my first fic ever so please be nice to me but also tell me if it sucks, this is so cheesy and self-indulgent i just want them to like hold each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 01:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11772315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaboy6022/pseuds/yaboy6022
Summary: A man doesn't know the full anatomy of his heart until a piece is cut out, but once it is, the exact shape of the hole it left is felt.Jason thought he could save Roy by ending things. That they were better off apart. Now Jason's hurt, and Roy's angry at him for leaving. But Roy comes running anyway.





	i see stars and go weak

Jason barely made it to the rooftop. He had dragged himself from a fight many times, broken and bloodied, but this was up there on a list of the worst he’d ever been. All the things he’d been through and he was going to bleed out on this dirty roof because of some low-level thugs.

_Not being careful_ , he thought.  _Stupid._  He reached for the back of his helmet to remove it, and his fingers fumbled at the mechanism. Finally, he gave up and dropped his arm to his side.

He was sat against a chimney, his gun still in his hand and his other hand pressing into the knife wound in his side. His bike was two blocks away, his safe house further. He had gotten home from worse, but that was back when—

_No. I’ve worked alone before. I’ve gotten out of worse before._

He prepared himself to stand up again, but at that moment, he became aware that he wasn’t alone. He should have noticed it sooner. He listened to the footsteps, and slowly raised his handgun. But it wasn’t the thugs from the street. It was someone who knew how to not be noticed. Jason knew it was Dick before he saw the blue.

“You look terrible,” Nightwing said.

“How… the fuck…did you find me?” Jason said. The helmet distorted his already ragged voice. Dick visibly flinched hearing the sound, like metal scraping on metal.

“You haven’t exactly been quiet the past few days. You’re the talk of the town. All the bad guys are telling each other about their friends who got fucked up by the Red Hood.”

“You’ve been following me.”

Dick crouched down and assessed Jason’s injuries. “Maybe so. I’m a detective. Something’s off with you. I’m taking you back to the cave.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jason muttered, and let Dick take off the helmet.

“Like hell. You need serious—“

“Dick, I swear to God,” Jason said, and the swell of anger gave his voice more strength. Dick jumped back slightly. “If you—if you take me to the Goddamn Batcave it will be the last thing you do.” He pushed himself up against the chimney, standing shaky and hunched over. “I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“I’ve gotten up from worse,  _Nightwing_. I… don’t need you following me.” He took a step.

“We are not going to do this right now. We’re going to go back and get you patched up.”

“You are so difficult. Can’t a guy—can’t a man just—“ He blinked. He could barely see Dick’s face.

Dick sighed. “Where’s your nearest safe house?”

“My apartment is close.”

“Let’s go.” He offered Jason his arm for support and Jason scowled and took it. “What’s up with you? You have been tearing Gotham’s criminal world a new one for about a week now. You’ve been really going at it, even for you.”

“I’m fine. Let’s not get personal.” They began a slow descent down the dimly lit stairwell of the building.

“Fine. If you won’t tell me what’s going on, maybe you’ll tell someone else.” Dick paused. “I’m going to call Roy—” Jason stopped walking. “You trust—Jason! Steps. Watch the—“

Jason could barely see, and gravity felt off.  _Fucking blood loss_. He stumbled a bit, and Dick caught him.

“Fucking—Arsenal…” Jason said, and passed out.

 

 

Jason woke up on his own bed. Dick had bandaged him, but all the pain was still there. He slowly looked around the room.

The clock reading 2:54 AM.

His helmet on the desk.

Dick.

Roy Harper.

His former partner and ex-best-friend was leaning against the wall, staring at the open window.

Beside him, Dick was on his phone, probably texting other members of the Family:  _Hey guys. I found Jason almost dead, again. We’re good now, though. I thought it was a good idea to call the guy who hates him for destroying their friendship and who he hasn’t spoken to in months. I’m Dick Grayson. I always have the best ideas_.

Dick noticed Jason was awake and immediately dropped his phone to his side. He tried to say something, but Roy cut him off.

“Hey,  _asshole_. What the  _fuck_  was that? What the fuck was that, just leaving me like that? No warning, no explanation. What the fuck? We were partners. We were best friends. Who the fuck do you think you are, just leaving and never even letting me know you were okay? Three months and I’ve heard  _fucking nothing_. You could have been dead, for all I knew. You almost were.” Roy’s hands were tight fists and he paced the room. “Fuck you. Who does that? Who the fuck—“

“Roy—“

“No. Shut the fuck up. Shut up. I cannot  _believe_  you. I cannot believe—You asshole. And now, finally, you call—“

“Dick called.”

“Whatever. You’re here, and you nearly got yourself killed, again. Never even let me know you were okay. Not a single word. After you—you had me thinking we were a team. That we were best friends.”

“Roy. I’m sorry,” Jason said, weakly. He watched Dick quietly leave the room.

“I don’t care. Where the fuck were you for three months?”

"I was here. Gotham."

"Nothing from you for three fucking months."

“Not a day went by where I didn’t want to fucking call you,” Jason closed his eyes, and continued in a whisper, “but everyone around me ends up dead, or worse, they end up like  _me_.”

“Like you? The fuck you mean, like you?”

“You know,” Jason said. “Criminal? A danger? A fucking—problem? But you? You’re  _good_. You don’t deserve that.”

“Good? We’re both a couple of fuck-ups, and you can’t be worse for me than I am for myself. I don’t give a fuck about what you think you are. You were my best friend, Jason. I…” Roy trailed off as Jason clenched both hands, inhaled sharply, and closed his eyes. Seeing Roy had almost made Jason forget he’d been stabbed at least four times.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said.

“I…. What the fuck even happened to you?”

“I’m—It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jason, you got fucked up by a couple of low-level thugs and almost bled out on a Gotham rooftop. I may not be an expert on  _fine_ , but this ain’t it.”

Jason closed his eyes. “I… I haven’t been… I haven’t slept.”

“Haven’t slept?” Roy asked.

“In four days. I haven’t slept in four days. It’s making me weak. And before that I didn’t sleep for three days. And before that… I don’t know.”

Roy’s face reluctantly transformed from angry to concerned. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. I don’t care. You have to sleep tonight, though.”

“I can’t.”

”You have to. I’m staying here tonight. Go to sleep. Just be careful, ‘cause Dick stitched your side while you were out.”

Roy left the bedroom and talked to Dick, but Jason couldn’t hear them. When they were done, Dick stuck his head through the bedroom door. “I’m going to leave. Call me if you need anything,” he said, but they both knew Jason wouldn’t.

When Roy came back in, he put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, Roy.”

Roy sighed. “I’m still mad as hell, but you need to sleep.”

“I can’t,” Jason said.

But even as he said so, the world was fading. He could barely keep his eyes open.

 

 

Jason woke up and it was completely dark. The air was still. The bed felt hard. He lifted his arm and—

He wasn’t in his bed. His hand hit wood.

_No. Not again_.

The coffin. His chest exploded with panic. He reached up and scratched at the wood, but nothing happened. The wood was stronger than any metal. His fingernails stung, but the wood was unchanged. He gasped in air. There was no escape. He heard faint laughter.

_nonononononononononono_

Jason screamed. He screamed and scratched at the wood. Nothing. No change. Every part of his body burned.

He faintly heard his name, maybe from above the ground.

“Jason! Jay— Wake up! Jason!”

He was still screaming when he opened his eyes.

The light was on in his bedroom. He was sitting up, and his hands were clenched so hard he was pretty sure he had cut his palms with his nails. He stopped screaming, and gasped in air. His throat was raw.

He became aware that Roy was sat beside him, holding him by the shoulders, one arm wrapped around behind him. His breathing was rough and his whole body shook.

“Jason,” Roy said softly, all traces of the anger from before gone from his voice. “It’s okay. Wherever you were, you’re not there. You’re here. I’m here.”

Roy’s voice. His best friend’s voice.

His breathing slowed.

Roy held him.

The clock said 4:37 AM.

“You’re here. You’re okay,” Roy said softly.

They sat in silence, except for Jason’s shaky breathing.

“Every time I sleep,” Jason said slowly, “I wake up—down there again.”

Roy put his hand on Jason's hand so that Jason would unclench his fist. His palms weren't bleeding, but there were red marks from his fingernails. Roy looked from Jason's hands to his face.

"What do you need?"

"I don't know. I don't know how to make it stop. It hasn't been this bad since I first—since I first—Since...." He struggled to say the words.

"I know," Roy said, and Jason was grateful he didn't have to finish the sentence.

“It happens every once in a while. But not this often.”

They sat in silence.Roy still held him.

Jason was tired. He was so incredibly tired. His injuries still hurt, though physical pain was pretty much insignificant at this point. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. But he couldn't. He couldn't go back there. Fear grew in him, fear that he would never rest, until he was dead in his grave again (this time, hopefully for good).

"Would it help if I stayed here?" Roy said. "Not—not here in the apartment, but like, right here. Where I am right now," he said, a little bit quieter.

Jason's chest clenched. He didn't look at Roy. "You can. You don't have to. You don't even have to stay here. You only came because Dick asked you to and I'm okay, I can take care of myself now."

Roy sighed. “No, you clearly can’t. I want to help you get through this. Let's just not talk about it, okay? I'll stay right here and you can sleep."

Jason nodded. He slowly laid back down on his back. His best friend turned off the light and then laid down beside him, on his side, facing him.

 

 

When Jason awoke, the sun was coming in through the window and Roy's arm was draped across his chest. Roy was sleeping. Jason didn't move.

 

 

A few hours later, Jason, half asleep, felt Roy move. He looked over to see that Roy was awake, and they caught each other's eyes. Neither said anything, afraid to shatter this fragile moment. Jason hoped Roy couldn't feel his heart. Then Roy pushed himself up, and pulled his arm off Jason. The moment passed.

"How are you feeling?" Roy asked.

"I'm okay. I'm better."

"That's good."

"I thought you said you were still mad."

"I think... I think we're good." He paused, staring at Jason. Then he narrowed his eyes. “But if you  _ever_  pull that shit again, I will kick your ass, for real. If you  _ever_  leave me like that again, I will  _seriously_  kick your ass."

"As if you could kick my ass," Jason replied, softly but with a smirk.

"Don't tempt me, Jaybird. I will do it." Roy punched Jason lightly on the arm, but Jason felt like he punched him in the chest.  _Jaybird_. He couldn’t speak. He remembered the last time someone called him that. It was Dick. (“If you  _ever_  call me that again,” Jason had said, his voice low, “I will put you in recovery for  _weeks_.”)

"I really would love to see you try,” Jason said, finally. He grinned at Roy.

Roy shook his head and got up. Jason waited a few more minutes, and followed him.

 

 

The next three days were the same. During the day and into the night, they went on patrols, investigated the criminal element. Then they dragged themselves back to the apartment, ate shitty takeout or microwave dinners, talked like they had never been apart, and fell into bed. Roy put his arm around Jason, to guard against the nightmares. They slept until noon, and did it all again the next day.

On the fourth night, Jason woke up in the coffin again. Then he woke up for real, screaming. Roy held him and told him, "You're getting better. You're getting better." Jason cried, and the next day, the Red Hood killed a man who was the head of an organization selling drugs to street kids. Later, Roy watched him clean the blood off his knives.

Jason’s face was as expressionless as his helmet. His hands shook.

That night, Jason didn't feel like talking, or eating, or existing. Roy had to go out and get something for the case they were working, Jason couldn’t remember what. When he finished with the knives, Roy was gone and he lay down in his bed and pulled the blanket over his head. He stared into the blackness.

He was the little dead boy who slept under tables and in cardboard boxes. He was dead, dead, dead. This person who was alive was not Jason Todd. It was a damaged, not whole. It was a result, born in pain, existed of pain, and created pain. It was not right. It should not be here.

"Jay," Roy said, his voice soft.

Jason hadn’t noticed Roy come home. He didn't answer, but he felt Roy's hand on his shoulder.

"You know there's no way I'm sleeping with you if you're wearing full gear."

_Think this through, Roy,_  he wanted to say. _Think about what you are doing, what you are protecting. What is left to protect? What are you doing here?_  But he did not say that.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut, then pulled himself up and out of bed. "Okay," he said, more to himself than to Roy.

He slowly removed his gear and armor, and then sat down on the bed. They were quiet for a few minutes.

"What happened, Jaybird?" Roy asked. "Why did it get so bad?"

Jason closed his eyes. "It was a few weeks ago. I was hunting what I thought was... maybe human trafficking. They were really good at hiding their tracks. And they were taking... people from the streets so of course the police or—or fucking  _Bruce_  didn't care." That anger that always lay semi-dormant rose up inside him. He took a breath, to calm himself. "It turns out it was a serial killer. And he was... he would take them, and he would put them in a coffin. And then he would—he would torture them. You know. And kill them. And the thing is, I didn't know that and I found him but I was looking for his victims and he found me first and knocked me out with some kind of tranq. And he fucking—he fucking put me in the coffin and—I woke up in there again, I fucking woke up in there and it was like the first time all over again." His eyes burned and his throat was so tight he could not continue.

For the first time in months, someone else saw him cry.

His body shook with sobs, and he pulled his knees into his chest, all six feet of him in the shape of a tiny boy from Crime Alley.

Roy had that look Jason had seen all those times back then. It meant he was about to do something really stupid to get Jason out of trouble. "Did you—"

"I killed him. Of course I killed him. I fucking—I broke out of that box just like before and I fucking—took him by surprise and didn't even think, just grabbed the nearest sharp thing and—" He broke off.

"I'm so sorry," Roy said. He put his arm on Jason’s back. Jason flinched at the touch.

"It's not like I haven't fucking killed anyone before. I know what I am."

"I meant... I'm sorry that that happened to you."

Jason didn't say anything. He angrily wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Let's just sleep," Roy suggested.

Jason didn't think he could sleep, but he let Roy pull him down into the bed anyways. He was still as Roy covered them both with the blanket.

 

 

Jason could barely breathe, or think. He waited until he was sure Roy was asleep, and then he quietly rose, and crept to the window of the bedroom. The apartment was on the seventh floor, and there was an old fire escape outside. Jason pushed the window open and climbed out, up the fire escape to the roof, three more stories up.

Outside, the sound of the living city surrounded him. Even though it was nearly three in the morning, Gotham was alive as it always was.

Jason sat against a chimney, and let himself cry. It was all so much, and everything inside him was either drowning or burning. Nothing made sense. All he could think was  _I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do it, I can’t do this._

He took a deep breath, and collected himself.

Roy. Roy was back. Sure, he had come back mad as hell and only because Dick asked him to, but he was back. And Jason remembered when Dick had found him, bleeding and broken, not having slept in days. And he remembered only caring that he got back to the apartment out of habit, a reflex survival reaction, but he didn’t really care. Now, Jason thought, he had a reason to care. Roy had probably saved his life, again.

And then there was the thing neither of them were talking about. During the day, they went out, cracked jokes, called each other names, competed for who could knock out the most gangsters. And then they came back to Jason's apartment and held each other as they fell asleep. Jason knew Roy was only doing it because of the nightmares. He wished he wasn't, but that was just it.

It was probably for the best.

If he'd been thinking, he'd have brought a cigarette to the roof.

The fire escape creaked and Jason's hands flew to where his guns would have been, if he hadn't taken off the Red Hood gear. When he realized he was unarmed, he slipped behind the chimney he had been sitting against and formulated a plan for escape and a plan for attack.

He looked around the chimney and it was Roy.

_Of course. Stupid. So goddamn defensive all the time._  He sat down against the bricks again, facing away from where Roy was.

"Jay?"

"I'm here," he said, without moving.

Roy came around and sat next to him. "Damn, you really know how to keep a guy on the edge of his seat."

"Didn't know you were awake."

"I wasn't. I woke up, and you weren't there, and I was worried. You're not right."

"When have I ever been right?" Jason laughed a little.

"Probably at the same time I was, so, a long ass fucking time ago.” Roy looked into the distance. "But, you're extra not right at the moment. I don't know, I thought you could be halfway across the country and I'd never even know."

“I’m not.”

“Well, you could be, given the shit you’ve pulled in the past.”

"I'm not going to leave again. It wasn't right before, and it wouldn't be right now, either."

"Good," Roy said.

"Although, if you don't want to be here, you should leave. I wouldn't blame you."

"Of course I don't want to be here, which is why I've been sleeping in your bed for the last four days." Roy stared at Jason for a few seconds, then smiled. "Dumbass."

"You've been doing that so I don't wake the entire fucking building by screaming."

"Sure. That's why," Roy said, and turned his face to the city lights.

Jason thought that at this moment, the roof of his apartment building was the center of the universe. "Is that why?" he asked.

Roy sighed. He didn't answer for a long time.

"I guess," he finally said. "If you think it is, then it is."

"What if I—"

"What if you don't? Figure it out."

_Maybe I already figured it out._

Jason felt that fight-or-flight response that made him leave the first time.  _Bad things happen when you get invested. Bad things happen to you. You are a bad thing. He is not._

But he had said he would not leave again.

And he didn’t want to. He knew then that he didn’t want things to ever change.

They sat side by side, shoulders touching. Time passed. Neither of them said anything.

Jason wished he could pull closed the cracks between them caused by the time they'd spent apart. Most of the time for the past few days, it felt like it had never happened. But now, it was like those three months were a physical thing wedged between them, and nothing would ever make it go away.

Finally, Jason shifted to where he was facing Roy’s side and broke the silence. "If you wanted to, I think... I'd like it if you stayed. If we stayed like this."

Roy didn't look at him.

"Jay."

"I mean—"

"I know what you mean. And God," his voice was very quiet, "does that sound... good. But fuck, Jay, I thought you disappeared again tonight, and I can't do it again.”

“I wouldn’t—“

“But you did. I can't be here with you with the thought you might just leave any day. And I'd never know where you went, or if you were even alive. I can't do it."

"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have left."

"I know. I think... that I can forgive. But I can't live with the fear it will happen again."

_Please stay,_  Jason wanted to say.  _I didn’t know before, what I had. I know I’m asking too much, but please stay._ ”I can't promise it will work out, but I can promise that even if it doesn't, you'll always know where I am."

Roy kept his face turned away. "I can't do it,” he said, still quiet.

"You won't have to."

“I don’t think you understand what you… why I came back here even though I was… well, I was not sad anymore, just fucking pissed. But Dick called me and said you needed me and I dropped  _everything_ , and I don’t think you understand why that means I… can’t.”

“I do.”  _I do, Roy, you have to see that, you are the best friend I’ve ever had, you…._

"I don't believe that."

Jason reached out and put his hand on the far side of Roy's face, his fingers shaking a little. Roy finally turned and looked at him, and he had been crying. Jason saw him hesitate, and then he put his hand over Jason's hand.

They were frozen like this, Roy's warm, rough hand on Jason's hand, Jason's hand gently cupping Roy's face. They stared at each other.

"Believe it," he said.

Jason kissed him. Roy was frozen for a half second, and then he leaned in and put his hand on the back of Jason's head, his fingers slightly curling in, sending chills down Jason's spine. The only things that existed were Roy's heartbeat and Roy's hands and Roy's lips, salty from the tears.

Everything was right.

Jason pulled away. The faintest light had appeared in the eastern sky.

He buried his head in Roy's neck. "Believe it," he said softly.

Roy laughed a little. "I guess I don't have a choice now, do I?"

Jason smiled, even though he knew Roy couldn't see him. "If you never forgive me for going away, I'll understand. I don't forgive myself. I've done a lot of stupid ass stuff, and leaving you was definitely up there on the list of stupidest things I’ve done. You said I don’t understand, but I do. Because the thing is, you keep me together, Roy Harper. You pick up the pieces of my goddamn life and you make sense of it. I'm at my best when I'm around you."

"You sappy bitch," Roy said, almost a whisper. He put his hand on Jason's head and held him against him. "You know you do the same for me, right?"

Here on this dirty rooftop, in the arms of his best friend in the world, Jason felt warmth like he hadn't felt since he died.

Jason sat up and put his legs over Roy's. He stared at his best friend, in the low light. He reached out and put his hand on Roy's shoulder, and gently slid his hand from there to the back of Roy's neck, and then Roy used the front of Jason's shirt to pull him into another kiss.

This was different from before. Roy's had a fistful of his shirt in a tight grip, and Jason knew he wasn't going anywhere. Jason's hand was in Roy's tangled hair, and he kissed Roy like they were high school sweethearts: not careful like the first time, but desperate and messy. Their teeth clipped together and their hands pulled at each other and their breathing was heavy and ragged.

Jason wrapped his other arm around Roy's back and pressed into him. Roy made a small noise, and Jason felt the heat in his cheeks. He gathered a fistful of Roy's shirt from the back and pulled in closer. Minutes passed.

"Jaybird," Roy said into Jason's lips, pulling apart slightly. "Jaybird, the sun's going to rise."

Jason wished he could live in the sound of Roy almost whispering  _Jaybird_  while he was close enough to feel the word escape his lips. He felt the rise and fall of Roy's chest as he caught his breath.

"I don't care," Jason said, and kissed him. "I don't need the sunrise, I have you."

"You fucking pretentious asshole," Roy whispered. He let go of Jason's shirt and slid that hand around Jason's neck. "Jaybird," he said again.

It was another few minutes before Jason could reply. Again it was desperate, months and months of subconscious "what-if" pushing them together. Again Jason felt the heat with every breath he heard Roy take and every sound he made. Jason slid his hand under Roy's shirt and pressed the palm of his hand on Roy's back.

"It's just that I've seen the sun rise in Gotham a thousand times, but I've only kissed you three times," he said against Roy's lips.

Jason heard—and felt—Roy laugh. "Was it really that good?“

"It was."

He disentangled himself and sat next to Roy again. Roy put his arm around him, and Jason leaned his head on Roy's shoulder.

The sky was purple and pink, and close to the horizon turned from dusky orange to bright yellow and then the sun peeked over the hills in the distance and it was day.

"You should get some sleep, Jaybird," Roy said, softly.

"Only if you come with me," Jason mumbled.

Roy stood up, and pulled Jason up to his feet. Jason let his momentum carry him until he was inches from Roy's face. Roy draped his arms over Jason's shoulders and kissed him. It was short this time, and when it was over, Jason said, "In front of all of Gotham. I can't believe you."

"I can't wait for the headlines," Roy said.

" _Hottest Vigilante Couples of the Week (#3 Will Surprise You)_ ," Jason quoted.

" _Does Red Hood and Arsenal Is Gay?_ " Roy said, and Jason laughed.

They climbed down the fire escape and in through the window of Jason's apartment. It was around six AM, and Jason was really feeling the sleep deprivation. He fell into his bed face first and buried his head in the pillows. Roy closed the blinds, though Jason would have knocked the fuck out in full daylight, he was so tired. He felt Roy crash next to him, and then wrap his arms around Jason. "I'm tryin' to sleep," he mumbled, but he rolled on his side, facing Roy. He moved in close, put his head under Roy's chin, and put one leg over Roy's legs. "You comfortable?" he said into Roy's neck.

"Yeah."

Limbs tangled with his best friend, Jason fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> "got my rings around me  
> i got baby to pound me  
> i see stars and go weak  
> my baby cries and lays me down"  
>  \--humiliation, the national


End file.
